


Trust

by StarlightStarwrites



Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, and i very much like him, hell of a lot of kissing in part 1, hell of a lot of lovin in part 2, pero very much likes your legs, so you do, threats of domesticity, you want to run away with him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:09:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightStarwrites/pseuds/StarlightStarwrites
Summary: Pero Tovar believed he could trust you. When he fears betrayal, you meet him with nothing but loyalty and kindness, and he can't stop from holding back his feelings for you.
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader, Pero Tovar/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Pero Tovar liked to think he was a hard man to read. And yet somehow, they still managed to figure out he hid the money. All he could think about as he ran was what an idiot he was, and if the money wasn’t where he left it, people were losing heads. He’d been traveling on his own for a while now, and he still couldn’t make up his mind whether this was better or worse.

The streets were still busy, but he weaved through the people with practiced ease. His sword was sheathed, but most still avoided getting in his path by the look on his face alone. He had left you there, asking you to guard his pay. It was another stupid idea.

He assumed he could trust you. But trusting had gotten him in trouble in the past. Maybe you had never betrayed him, but the _cabrónes_ had to have found out somehow. _Was_ it you? Had he really gone soft for a woman with pretty eyes and a teasing smile?

He cursed as he ran down the street behind the shops. He didn’t care who he pushed aside as he finally reached the alley. He turned aside the crates at the back door of the tavern, to where he told you he stashed the gold. The bag would be in the smallest one, and he would take it and disappear and—

It was gone.

They must have been right. Tovar was a fool. You had taken it.

“ _Mierda_.” He slammed his fist on the wooden slats of the wall. _“¡Mierda!”_

He wasn’t even sure who to be mad at. A pit formed in his stomach at the thought of you. As if the universe decided to curse him, your head popped out from the back door the tavern, eyes wide.

“Pero!” you hissed. You looked afraid, and he tried to ignore the tightening in his chest. He turned to anger instead.

“What have you done?” He didn’t like how accusatory he sounded. Your hand reached to grasp his arm and pull him in, just as his hands came to wrap around your upper arms, pushing you into the backroom. He barely glanced around to make sure you were alone before asking you again. “What have you _done?”_

The subtle break in his voice pulled at your heart. But today was getting more and more confusing, and you were ready to get out of this mess a long time ago.

“What are you talking about, Pero?” You make sure the door has closed behind you before turning back to him, ignoring the way his hands pull at your jacket and waist like he’s searching for something. “You can’t be seen here, Pero. What are you doing back?”

“It’s gone!” he hissed. He’s still angry but quieter now. He knows you can’t be overheard. “It’s gone. What have you done with it?”

“Pero, please, listen to me. Men came here—”

“What?” He interrupts you. “Are you alright? What did they do to you?”

The change in his demeanor throws you. You could have sworn he was blaming you for the gold you knew was missing, and yet here he stands now with nothing but worry in his eyes and assurance in his hands. He pulls you slightly closer, hands running over your shoulders. Even though you’re tense from the events of the day, you find safety in the touch, willing to forgive him if he would just _listen_.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fine. But they were poking around, asked Henry many questions. I got nervous, so I moved the money.”

The look in his eye changes, but you can see he isn’t angry with you anymore. “What did Henry tell them?”

“You know Henry.” You tug on his armor, pressing your chest to his. “He isn’t one to talk. Sent them away. He wouldn’t have anything to tell them anyway.”

Tovar pouts. “Henry hates me.”

“Henry hates everyone,” you say, smiling up at him. “There’s a reason he’s been in business this long.”

His breath has calmed, and he holds you with hands at your back. It’s a touch of two people who are familiar with each other, and your heart beats faster at the implications. He’s never held you like this before. It was born of panic you know, but you still hope it means he’s beginning to trust you.

“Then what did the men do?”

“They started hanging around. Watching and looking through stuff. You told me to make sure it was safe so…I did. I pulled it out and put it where they wouldn’t dare look. I didn’t see them out when I looked last, but they’re likely waiting for you. If they see you here, Pero…”

They would come back. They’d look through everything. And then they’d take him from you.

You’d only just gotten him back.

“Then where did you hide it? I will take it away from here.”

You knew you would have to tell him eventually. But now that you stared the moment in the face, you felt embarrassed. It was an incredibly clever hiding spot, that you knew. You only hoped he would see it the same.

Tovar stared at you, still standing in his arms. To be honest, it was only just registering to him now how he held you, how you held him back. He wasn’t inclined to let go any time soon. It was the way you now avoided looking at him that made him worried. You looked…flustered.

He pulled away to look at you better. “Is everything alright?”

You hated that you were blushing. “I—yes, well no. No, it’s fine just—” Oh this was stupid. You pulled out of his arms, fisted your skirts in your hands, and lifted.

Tovar didn’t think he could be easily surprised, but as soon as you did _that_ , he almost choked. He had to take a moment to realize that he was looking at _your legs_ before he actually saw what was strapped to them. Pouches of his gold stuffed in your stockings and tied with…oh gods. Was that a garter?

You stared at him as he stared at your legs. Frozen for a moment, you just watched his face, unsure how to interpret his shock. It was only when he blinked a few times that you realize you were still holding your skirts up, and you dropped them quickly. He’d seen what he needed to.

“It’s, uh, it’s all there.” You didn’t like how hoarse your voice had gotten.

Pero cleared his throat, nodding as he ducked his head to the floor. He hates that he can’t stop himself from smiling and is forced to hide it instead.

“I should…” He trailed off. What _should_ he do? “I should get it out of here.”

Being so close to you would only put you at risk. Henry would really hate him then, and he wasn’t going to risk the chance of never seeing you again. Thinking about his money strapped to your legs distracted him from what you were doing. After he trailed of the first time, you had stopped listening and were already talking over him. He shook his head before he heard what you were saying.

“I don’t carry much, but I brought an extra bag with provisions. I figured you wouldn’t likely bother so I thought I’d take care of that for you. And yes, before you ask, I brought an extra canteen filled with ale for you, and the sweet rolls. I took whatever wouldn’t spoil, but really you ought to be eating more fresh—”

You stopped when he took hold of you by your arms, pulling you to look at him. He still held one of the parcels you had absent-mindedly handed him, and he had absent-mindedly taken.

“What are you on about?”

His brows were creased so deeply, you wanted to reach up and smooth it with your fingers. Despite noticing how much he had calmed down from earlier, his chest was heaving now.

“You said it yourself, they’ll be after us. We—”

“We…”

The grip on your arms was tight. You had no idea what he was thinking.

“ _Yes_ , we. You think I was going to let you run off on your own? You hardly think two steps ahead. Besides, you need someone to watch your back, and I’d be very disappointed when you run off with so much money, I never see you again.”

Pero stared at you in awe. “No, I…” He very much wanted to hoist you up over his shoulder and carry you away right now. But he knew that would attract unwanted attention, so instead he did the next best thing.

He surges forward, lips pressing to yours in a fiery kiss. He had wanted to do this admittedly much too soon after meeting you, but now that he had you here, in his arms, sharing your breath, _tasting_ you—he thinks he should have done it much sooner. Your lips were soft, he liked the way your waist fit in his hands, liked how easily you opened for him.

The bags dropped to the ground, forgotten as Pero kissed you. Your hands creep up to his neck, caressing his face before curling in his hair. He had taken the lead, tongue licking into your mouth, his forehead pressing into yours to tilt your head back. It was the moment you had been waiting for, the kiss of your dreams. You had been afraid he may never come to you like this, but now here he was.

You weren’t going to waste a moment.

Your fingers wrapped in his hair and pulled, tilting his head back, and you took the moment of surprise to reach with your own tongue, pushing into his mouth to take what you wanted. It was a fierce kiss, and you moved your lips against his, opening his mouth before taking his bottom lip in between yours. His hands gripped the flesh of your waist almost painfully, and your eyes flicked open for a moment to look at him.

His gaze was dark and primal, and you nearly feared you had gone too far. The backroom was too dark to see the flush of his face, but you were so close the constant sound from the front did nothing to hide his growl. The sound vibrated against your lips and sent a pulse of want through your body. His mouth was on yours again, rough and hungry, and it took everything in you to keep up. Your hands were threading through his hair, pulling the short locks, fingernails scrapping at his scalp. His hands slid up from your waist, fingers splaying against your back, his thumbs rubbing underneath your breasts. He leans into you, pushing you back and you walk, lips not breaking from each other.

Your back hits the wall, and he swipes into your mouth again, unashamedly tasting you. You’re surrounded by him, melt into his arms, his mouth. Moan what might be his name past his lips. You know you’re on borrowed time, know that he does too by the way he forcibly keeps his hands above your hips. The passion of his kiss does not fade, even as he slows. His nose bumps yours, his kisses become shorter and harder, as though he’s trying to pull away and failing.

You are no innocent, leaning forward to find his lips again each time you separate. Your hands come to cup his cheeks, just as his leave your sides to take your face in his hands. He pulls you in for one last kiss, much softer than all the ones before. Your lips stay planted on his and he breathes you in. Your thumb skims on the edge of scar underneath his eye, still enjoying the feeling of having him so near.

You know what is coming next, so you break the moment first.

“I’m going to take that as you don’t have issue with me coming?”

His shoulders shake for a moment as he nuzzles your cheek, and you think he’s smiling.

“I most certainly have issue, _amor_. But it seems I cannot let you go.” He nips at your bottom lip, making you smile. You sincerely hope you find yourself between a wall and Tovar again, because you have plans.

You slide your hands down to his chest to put some distance between you, allowing you to remember the danger that is coming, and how you are to escape.

“We’ll take what we have here, and head to the bridge on the East side of town,” you say, trying to bring focus back to your plan. Pero still looks at you with worry.

“My horse, she is still kept on the other side—”

It’s your turn to interrupt him. “I’ve already sent Sigmond. He’s brought her to this side of the river. If we make it there without a problem, we should be safe.”

You don’t recognize the look in his eye as he looks at you now, but you think it is fond. His lips quirk to the side as he admires you. “You think of everything, do you not?”

You smile up at him, happy to be appreciated, happy that he did not protest your presence. “One of us must.”

He grins then, relief shinning in his face. His eyebrows pull together, and you think you have never seen him with such emotion. The bags are quickly snatched up from where they lay on the floor, and you stride to the door, fastening your satchel of personal items across your back.

Pero strides beside you, rushing to the door, before he stops you. A hand comes to the side of your neck, a thumb on your jaw, and pulls your face toward him to press a fierce kiss to your lips. It’s over much too soon, and you find yourself chasing his taste.

He stands more proudly than you’ve ever seen him. “ _Mi corazón_ ,” he whispers. And then he’s pulling you by your hand onto the evening streets, eagerly running to your next adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

Though originally you had thought hiding the gold under your skirts was a genius idea, you now viciously regretted it. It was only the second day of riding, and despite the comfort of having Pero at your back, his arms settling around your waist, it _hurt_. You felt like lead, constantly weighed down, and that was without mentioning the pain of being in the saddle for so long.

The two of you had stopped last night for a few hours to get some rest, collapsing almost immediately after dismounting. Pero had tucked you into him, wrapping you both in the one blanket you thought to bring. It was cold and uncomfortable until you promptly passed out. As you rode now, tavern in sight, you had a feeling that your companion had not gotten nearly as much time as you. He slumped forward on you, normally which you would be pleased with had the sun not been beating down on you all day.

You turned to look at his face. He was gazing at the wagons and merchants already standing around outside, looking uncertain. When he caught you staring, he turned back to you, lips quirking.

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

He smiles with his eyes. You notice that about him. He doesn’t hide his emotions like you once thought he did; he expresses them differently. You know it is a side-effect of his profession, but the more you see him allow himself to feel, to look at you the way he does, you feel a swell of pride.

Pero looks at you like he doesn’t believe you could exist. His hand moves from where it rested on your thigh to press his palm to your abdomen, fingers reaching and feeling as if to make sure you were really here. “Never better, _querida_.” His face is close to yours, and his nose bumps the shell of your ear. “Hold on tight for me, hmm?”

You’re about to ask why, when suddenly he kicks the horse, and she leaps into a canter. A couple of people shout in protest, and Pero expertly maneuvers around them, cutting around the path to ride directly to the stables.

“I am not waiting any longer.” His voice is deep in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

The tavern is not a tavern at all, but an inn. It’s the largest you’ve ever seen outside the city. As a waystation for travelers of all walks and frequent business stop for merchants, the place is bustling. The two of you are not likely to be noticed, just two more travelers--here and gone before anyone is wiser.

Pero dismounts with ease, turning back to you as soon as his feet are on the ground. His hands reach for your waist, and you brace yourself on his shoulders as he swings you down. You’re heavier now with the hidden loot, and you take a moment to balance, shifting your legs after straddling a horse for so long. You share a smile with Pero, and he tilts your head up by your chin.

“I will just be a moment.”

He speaks with the stable boy for a moment and you catch something about “rooms available” before the boy is saying _yessir_ and leading the mare away. Pero has your bags slung over his shoulder, and before you know it, his hand is at your back and he’s already pushing you inside the inn. The place is nicer than the tavern you worked in, but the patrons appear to be about the same. It is not without drunks and sellswords, but the number of fat men in fine clothes does appear to be higher.

You follow Pero to the counter where the owner writes something down in a ledger. You begin to worry about the cost of staying here when the man greets you with a neutral face. But as soon as Pero asks for a room and drops two gold coins on the counter, the widening of the man’s eyes tells you all you need to know. At your tavern, it was common to see copper pieces, silver if someone’s tab ran high enough. You weren’t sure you’d ever handled gold coin before Pero had come to you rambling about a job and keeping the bag secret.

You had almost forgotten that the weight tied to your legs wasn’t just a burden. It meant you were _rich_.

The man hands over a key, telling you which room is yours. “The evening meal has already been prepared, so you may eat here, or we can have dinner brought to your room for you and your wife, if you would prefer.”

The sound of a hot meal almost made you miss the man’s words. Pero, however, seems to be struck dumb. You take hold of his arm to catch his attention, but even then he doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“I think we would prefer to eat in our room, if it’s not too much trouble,” you say. You fear he may hesitate too long and cause suspicion, but you can’t fight the grin that spreads across your face. Someone just assumed you were _married_ , and Pero was _flustered_ because of it.

His hand comes around your back and squeezes your side. After everything is in order, you walk to your room together, his arm heavy around your waist. Thoughts of what you could finally be doing with him chase away any remnants of exhaustion. And with how close Pero walks to you, you have a feeling he is thinking the same.

The room is clean, comfortable. The bed is just large enough for the two of you to fit side-by-side, and a chest of drawers rests against the opposite wall. Besides that, there is a short bedside table, and another in the corner with a basin of water. You don’t particularly care to inspect any of it, and instead dump your satchel on the chest and then collapse on the bed and kick off your shoes. Your legs are exhausted and now was as good a time as any to let Pero know it.

He stands across the room from you, already having set down the bags, and is now unbuckling straps to remove his long sword. His eyes never leave yours as he pulls it off and sets it down against the wall. His hands go to his belt next, unbuckling to remove the short sword and few knives that hang from it. He puts them off to the side, now quickly taking off the armor he wears on his arms.

You take off your travelling jacket before moving your hands to your skirts, still watching Pero intently. You creep the edge of the skirt up, yet his eyes never stray from your face. His chest plate falls with the rest of the armor, leaving him in just his tunic, pants, and boots. You had never seen him in such a state of undress before, and you think he should walk around like this more often. You can see the shape of him more clearly, and you know that there are fewer layers between you. He looks softer like this, a Pero Tovar that only you get to see.

“ _Pero_ ,” you breathe. You don’t know why you call his name, but it seemed like the only thing you could say.

He steps toward you slowly, a teasing look on his face. “Yes?” He towers over you from where you sit on the bed before placing his hands on either side of you as he leans closer. You can feel his breath on your face, and your heart stutters.

Your hands grip the fabric of your skirts tighter, and suddenly you remember the reason why you are seated in the first place. You gather them up, pulling them to your hips to expose your legs once again. Pero’s eyes dart down despite the cool façade he has tried to keep, and you see a flush to his skin.

“I could use some help removing these,” you whisper, lifting a foot to place against his thigh. He can’t look at you anymore, his attention stolen by your legs, and just as important, _the gold strapped to your legs_.

He groans, pulling away from you to sink to his knees between your legs. Your breath catches, watching his every move. His hands move along your legs, touching you reverently, wrapping around your ankles as he puts a foot in his lap. He looks up at you now, admiring the way you look. Your mouth is open, chest heaving. With your jacket removed, he can admire the top of your breasts with every breath you take.

He finally meets your eyes, and you can see the want in his gaze. You wiggle your foot, brushing against his thigh and closer to his groin. He knows you’re trying to rile him up. And he knows that you know you’re succeeding. He gives a yank, making you fall back to your elbows, then places your ankle on his shoulder. He places a kiss on the inside of your leg, keeping eye contact, before untying one of the pouches and letting it drop to the floor. He places a second kiss on the side of your knee, hands sliding past your stockings onto the skin of your thigh where the garter secured two more pouches.

His fingers slip under, pulling the material away, letting the bagged coins fall to the ground with a _clink_. His mouth comes to the exposed flesh, kissing closer to your center. He stops short of where you want him and sinks his teeth in. You _moan_.

It comes without warning, and Pero feels himself harden when he looks at you. Hearing the sounds you make draws him closer to you, pushing you back against the bed while still holding your leg to his side, and he attaches his lips to yours. The kiss is hungry, much like the first one you shared, and he groans into your mouth. He has a hand on your jaw keeping your face turned to his as he devours you, and your hands slip into his hair again, bringing him close but wanting him closer still.

He bites at your lip, trying to pull away only to press another kiss underneath your chin. “Temptress,” he murmurs against your throat, and you pull tighter on his hair. He lifts his head to look at you, and you see the smile on his face. “You wanted these removed, no?” His hand grabs at you other leg, shaking the bags still strapped to you.

You grin up at him, reluctantly letting go. “Hurry up then,” your hand brushes over his hair as he sinks back down your body, “there is so much I want to do to you.”

He sighs deeply, pressing his mouth to your thigh again to suck a mark into your skin, hands roughly pulling down the stocking to completely bare your leg. He hardly even looks before his attention is turning to the other one. He rips the bags from where you tied them, both hands coming to rip the fabric of your garter, nearly throwing the bags behind him. One opens, spilling coins across the floor. Neither of you notice, too involved in the touches of the other. Pero’s kisses become hotter and rougher as he attacks the skin of your thighs.

He pushes you back from the edge, centers you on the bed so he can crawl over you, hands gripping behind each of your knees, allowing him to move your legs as he pleases. He keeps his face between your legs, kissing and marking and tasting, and you lose yourself in the feeling. Your gasping underneath him, and Pero thinks he has never been anywhere better than here, surrounded by you. His face comes to brush against the cloth still covering your core, and he is moments from ripping it from you when his hands get lost in your skirts. He tugs at them, attempting to find how to get them off before growling in frustration. Your hands fall from his head when he pulls back.

“Get these off,” he snaps, tugging at your outer skirts.

You sit up quickly hands flying to the buttons at your side, not caring if you ripped them off yourself. His hands are still palming the flesh of your thighs, a hand cupping your center, making you roll your hips into him, desperate for more. The first layer unbuttoned, you moved to the second as he tried to pull the fabric away from you. “Fuck. Fuck,” you repeat yourself as his hands leave you, pulling the skirts from your legs, nearly getting tangled in them.

“Damned skirts,” Pero curses when he finally gets a layer away from you, throwing it across the room. “Don’t want you to wear these again.”

Finally your legs are bared to him, and takes your underclothes off with a smooth movement. You giggle at the thought when he stares. You take your legs around his waist to pull him closer, making him bring his arms down to brace himself above you. “Yeah?” you tease, “shall I just walk around like this?” You wear nothing but your blouse and corset now, and you might have felt silly if not for the way he looks at you.

“I am beginning to consider it,” he growls into your chest, teeth skimming over the tops of your breast. “I will buy you a house, and there will be no one but us.” His hand comes to cup you again, his fingers now running over your folds. “And you will wear _nothing_.” He growls the words into your ear, and when his fingers run over you again, you moan.

Your hands grip his back, pulling up on the tunic he still wears. There is too much between you still, and you want to see more of him. He obliges, sitting up for a moment to pull his shirt over his head and throwing it among the other strewn items of clothing. He doesn’t give you a moment to appreciate his body before his hands are moving to your own blouse and pulling it up. You let him help you remove it, pulling it over your head and mussing your hair. As soon as it is gone, he runs his hand over your face, smoothing back your hair to kiss you. The force of the kiss has you falling back to the bed, and you wrap your arms around his back. Despite wanting him to kiss you like he is, to consume you and press you down how he is doing now, you want your chance to watch him, to make him as weak as he makes you.

You turn your head in an attempt to break the kiss, but instead he brings his attention to your neck. You let him get distracted and maneuver yourself to find a position of leverage. Pushing off from the bed, you use your legs to turn him, pushing him onto his back and taking your place straddling his hips. He moans at the change, and you can’t help but grind yourself over his growing bulge. He begins to sit up to get back at you, but you push him back, grinding against him again. He grits his teeth and his hands come to squeeze your hips, allowing you the moment, but warning you that he won’t allow teasing.

Your hands make a trail from his shoulders to his abdomen, feeling skin and scar and muscle, appreciating the way he looks without the armor. “Oh God, Pero,” you say back to him, “I don’t think I’ll let you wear anything either.”

He groans and makes to grab for you, but you slide off his hips to his lap, bringing your hands to pull at the ties at the front of his breeches. You get them undone swiftly, pulling down on them when he lifts his hips to help. You only get them to his knees when you encounter a problem. His tall boots still on prevent you from getting much further, and Pero nearly pushes you off him to pull them from his feet, tossing them aside. He stands up at the edge of the bed to remove the pants and you reach forward to help.

As soon as he kicks them off, he’s pushing you back to the bed, lips on yours. His kisses are passionate, making you melt to the mattress, surrendering to him again. You feel his skin against yours, and you swear it’s better than any feeling you’ve ever experienced. His hands grope at your body, pulling your breasts from the corset. It’s the only thing you still wear, not bothering you nearly as much as the fact that Pero still wears his smallclothes. You can feel the hard length of him against your leg, and you lift it to rub against him. When you look up at him, he’s a mess. His hair is mussed, standing up in places where you pulled, and four red lines cut across his chest showing where you must have scratched him. His mouth drops open at the contact, and he moans, looking at you with a dark gaze.

His hand comes to wrap around your throat, gently holding you in place as he grips the joint between your hip and thigh to rub himself against your leg again. His own thigh comes up between yours, and motions for you to move on him. You feel the skin of his thigh, grind yourself on the hard muscle there. You’re already wet, and Pero groans at the slick feeling as you rub against him.

Your fingers reach to his waist band, tugging on it. “Please, Pero, I need you,” you whine. You grind on him again, relieved at the friction on your clit. “I _need_ you.”

“You make me crazy, _hermosa_.” He bends to kiss you again, biting down on your lip. He’s moments away from removing the shorts, hand squeezing at your ass before moving to his own waist when there is a knock on the door.

He releases your lip, surprised at the sound. You try to sit up even with him on top of you, worry at who could be there. Without thinking, Pero shouts “Go away!” He turns from the door to you again, indenting to go back right where he left off when the knock sounds again.

He growls and pulls himself away from you to stride to the door, unsheathing a sword as he does. You gasp, scrambling to pull the edge of the quilt to cover yourself while you hiss out Pero’s name in warning. He ignores it, ripping open the door.

“What in the _living hell_ are you here for?”

You’re impressed by the wrath in his voice, and you think if you had been on the receiving end of his question, you would fear for your life.

The poor young thing on the other side of door squeaks out “Your, your d-dinner, sir!”

Pero doesn’t say a word, only snatches the tray before slamming the door shut again and locking it. The food is placed aside on the table, sword returned to the dresser, and then he’s turning on you again. Your hand is clasped to your mouth, taking a moment to feel relief that it was nothing but the dinner _you_ had ordered be sent up. You let your hand drop and whisper “Holy shit,” before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

Pero shakes his head at you, partially amused by your reaction. He comes back to bed, crawling up your body, and you readily place your hands on his shoulders to welcome him back. You put your forehead to his chest, let the last of your laughter fade. “Oh, you are terrifying. Being greeted by an angry, mostly naked man wielding a sword.” You laugh again, pulling him closer. “I might have just died.”

Perhaps he would have found the situation funny at another time. But now when you say that, he is reminded how he greeted you the day before, in fear of another betrayal. He had unjustly assumed that you, who had always kept him company, cared for him better than any normal hostess should, who laughed with him and treated him like he was worth more than just his sword and his skill, would take the trust he gave you and destroy him with it.

You notice the scowl he wears, finally rub your fingers over the creases in his brow. “Is everything alright?”

He takes hold of your hand, resting it on his chest. “No. I must apologize, _amor_.” He hesitates, trying to find the right words. How could he act as though the gold was worth more to him than you?

He hears you whisper his name, bringing him back to you. “I should never have even thought to blame you.” He sees confusion in your eyes. “Yesterday. I reacted mindlessly. I dishonored you to ever think that you would do such a thing.”

You shake your head, finally understanding. “Pero, you don’t have to…”

He places his fingers over your lips in a gentle touch, moving to cup your chin when you stop.

“I must say this,” he says earnestly, and your heart thunders at what he may confess. It takes him a breath; he stares at you intently as though he is memorizing something. “I trust you. I do. I need you to know that.”

Somehow that means more to you than any other confession he could have made. Your face softens. This is important to him and now important to you.

“I do, my love. I know.” You hope he knows just how much you do. His hand squeezes your thigh reassuringly, reminding you of your intimate position. Running your hands down his body, you pull him closer, shooting him a teasing smile. “But I wouldn’t mind if you showed me.”

He lets out a strained grunt, pressing more of his weight on to you. “I cannot wait any longer,” he rasps into your mouth, before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

You move your lips languidly, tasting him for your pleasure, but pouring in your care for his. He deserves softness, to know that someone cares, that someone supports him. You want to tell him he isn’t alone anymore, that you mean every word you ever say to him with this kiss. Your hands smooth over the planes of his back as he moves with you, gripping the only fabric left on him and pulling it down his legs.

He shifts above you, breaking the kiss for a moment to toss away the shorts, then hands come back to your legs, pulling them up around him. His mouth is soft on yours, one hand rubs along your cheekbone, while the other makes a path up your inner thigh, not stopping as fingers trace along your folds. You had been too long without this feeling, and you buck your hips to press further into his hand.

He takes the hint, middle finger brushing over your clit before moving down, parting you and slipping inside. You sigh at the feeling, wanting to move under him, but force yourself to stay still.

“More, Pero,” you say against his lips, growing more impatient. “Please don’t tease.”

Then he’s moving inside you, running his finger against your walls, and you can’t help but squirm. You were wet before, and now you were nearly dripping. Before you can say anything, he moves faster, slipping in a second finger. It’s not what you were going to ask for, but he knows to prepare you. You appreciate that he tempers his own impatience for you, but if judging by the sound as he fingers you, you think you are more than ready for him.

Your back arches when he reaches a spot inside you, and you tighten your legs around him, attempting to draw his attention from where his fingers move in and out of you.

“Pero, Pero please,” you whine. “I want you. I want to come with you inside me.”

You feel the pressure build in you as you watch him. He keeps a steady pace, coaxing sounds from where he touches you _and_ from your throat. Your moan brings him to look at you, and he realizes.

“You are close, are you?” he asks, voice taking on a tone you don’t like. He brings his thumb to you, coating it with your slick before bringing it to rub at your bundle of nerves. He doesn’t stop pumping in and out of you, the small circles now joining the sensation. “Spread your legs for me, _hermosa_. I want to see you.”

You writhe underneath his touch but obey him anyway. You are close, feeling the rising heat, the twisting in your abdomen. He works steadily, as if he knew to drive you crazy. It builds, making you quiver with each brush of his thumb, pulsing around the fingers inside you. His other hand comes around your throat, and your eyes meet his.

“I am inside you,” he says, curling his fingers again as if to make the point. “Now come.”

His predatory gaze and demanding words send you over the edge. Your moan turns into a cry as his fingers do not stop their pace, drawing the heat and wetness from your core, making you shake around him, under him. You call his name, not sure if you want him to stop or to never stop.

Before you can make up your mind, he pulls his fingers from you, keeping you in place only by your neck. Despite the incredible high you feel, the solidness of his body between your quivering legs, it leaves you unsatisfied. You squirm, wishing he would touch you again, to draw out your climax. You’re still whining his name, and he looks down at you with a devilish smile.

He leans forward to press his lips to yours. It’s a gracious kiss, but still teasing. “What is it?” he asks, smiling down at you. “I let you come.”

“No, you didn’t!” You don’t know where the anger comes from, and you reach up a hand to hit his chest. “I needed _more_.”

He snatches your hands away. “Needed?”

“Need!” Your hands are pinned above your head with one of his.

You start to hate that his grin only gets wider. “You need more from me?” His other hand pushes your leg aside, reaches to take hold of himself, stroking slowly as he looks at you spread for him. “You will have more, _hermosa_.”

He takes the tip of his cock and drags it through your folds, spreading the wetness from his hand over himself before entering you fully. You both let out loud moans, taking a brief moment to breathe in the change. He’s big, the stretch pulling you, making you grateful for the time he spent spreading you with his fingers. You want to enjoy the feeling, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

He pulls out of you, before sliding in again with more force. The pace he sets is brutal, entering you faster than his fingers ever did. You feel your ruined orgasm building even faster, and you say more curses than you ever have in your life. Pero’s grunts spur you even closer, the sound of him and the sound of skin hitting skin, the wet squelching as he drives his hips into yours. You start to shake under him already, twisting your wrists where he keeps them pinned to the mattress.

“Pero, fuck. I—” you break off, not even sure what you intended to say. His thrusts come harder, making your body bounce on his cock. You take a shuddering breath, legs wrapped tight around his waist so he can still move inside you. His one hand has never left your throat, but now he takes his other to grip the headboard, using it as leverage to keep pounding into you, bringing you even closer.

“What is it, _hermosa?_ You still need more?”

Pero can see the way you look, eyes glazed, hands grasping for any inch of his skin, leaving scratch marks anywhere you can reach, unable to form any words. You’re tight around him, and with the pace he’s keeping, he fears he cannot last much longer. You’re close again, he can tell. Perhaps his teasing was unfair, but with the disheveled look you have, the way you arch your body and moan for him, he cannot find it in himself to feel any remorse. You are beautiful, much too good for him, but time and time again you prove to him that you _want_ to be here. And how could he deny you?

His pace stutters for a moment, before his hand on your throat comes to your calf, pulling your leg from around him and lifting it in the air. The stretch, the angle has you teetering on the edge, and you arch again.

_“Pero!”_ you cry out his thrusts into you get faster, and suddenly you’re coming. You feel nothing but his cock as your walls tighten around him. Not the hands holding you, or the mattress at your back, or his breath on your neck as he leans down. You begin to shake again, thinking the feeling is too much as his pace continues, working you through your high. You nearly hated him for stopping too soon before, but now you begin to think it was to save you from this, the feeling of losing yourself in your own body, being at the mercy of this man.

You can’t stop the moan that rips from your throat, a primal sound that Pero doesn’t expect. The feeling of you coming around him, the sound of you moaning in his ear drives him over the edge. He had been too careless, getting lost in the feeling of you, that not a moment after pulling out of your heat he’s coming, painting your inner thigh and hip with his seed. He strokes himself slowly has he does, and he is surprised when your hand joins his.

You are pleased to feel how wet he is, knowing it is your come on him, just as his now is on you. You stroke him, taking his length into your hand with a tight grip, not letting up as he moans and twitches above you. He thrusts his hips into your hand, and it only takes a moment before another spurt of come paints you again. He shudders, his large palm coming to cup the side of your face as you rub your fingers over the tip of him, wiping away what drips from him.

He groans, twitching under your touch, eyes locked on yours, and you become overwhelmed with curiosity. You pull your hand from him and take your two fingers into your mouth, tasting the mix of both of you. Pero moans in protest at the sight, quickly pulling your hand from your mouth and replacing it with his tongue. His lips press to yours as he swipes into your mouth, searching the taste.

His body is heavy and he is exhausted, but he has no desire to part from you. His hands slip underneath your body and he rolls to his back, keeping you on top of him so his lips never leave yours. He continues to kiss you like this, without the concern of crushing you. As he runs his hands over your back, he feels the laces of your corset, pulled down to allow your bare breasts to press to the skin of his chest.

In this moment, he feels nothing but gratitude for you, that you exist, that you are here, that you want him as much as he wants you. Your kiss turns to light pecks as you take over, smattering his face in little kisses, only pulling away to look down at him when you realize he is smiling.

“What is it?” you whisper, taking hold of his face and returning his smile.

He takes one of your hands to move it to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to your palm. “I meant what I said, _mi amor_. I cannot give you what—”

“Pero.”

“—you deserve, but I swear that—”

“ _Pero_.” Oh, he’s doing it again. You can’t believe how hard it is for him to an idea through his thick skull.

“—when I said that I—”

You kiss him. You can see what he is doing, and you do not want to hear it. He hasn’t had people so close to him, that you knew. It had taken time to learn the inner workings of Pero Tovar, but you’ve done it, and that’s how you know what to say.

“I trust you, too.” You brush the hair from his forehead and caress his cheek, feeling the scruff along his jaw. “I trust you, Pero.”

You whisper the words onto his lips, and his throat tightens. It feels right having you here in his arms; there’s a security to the feeling that despite the danger that awaits you out the door, despite the matters of money and work and employers, you stand out from it all. The gold on the floor below your tangled bodies would mean nothing to him if you were not in his arms. Maybe one day he will find the courage to tell you everything, to tell you what you really mean to him. But for now, it is enough for him to give his trust and receive yours in return.


End file.
